I Know Places (Ominis Gaunt x F!MC)

Potterton Inn

Ominis and Siobhan are not safe.

At least, that is what he thinks as he paces across the room, back and forth until he is sure his oxfords will burn a line through the plush rug. He can sense Siobhan watching him with bated breath, the fluttering of her heartbeat distracting him as he attempts to make sense of the situation.

It has only been a few days and yet their journey to Knockturn Alley feels like a lifetime ago. Not that the arsenic-infused poison is something Ominis has forgotten about, but his priority since that fateful day is to protect Siobhan and keep her out of the Ministry's grasp.

Apparently, traveling to the other side of Great Britain has done little to help matters.

Ominis feels a flicker of remorse and doubt pass through his mind, wondering if he ought to have protested more when Sebastian suggested the diversion in the first place. Hiding in Scotland? They might as well have gone directly to London and waited for someone to recognize them with how little time it has taken for an unknown entity to discover their place of refuge.

Or perhaps he is jumping to conclusions and a simpler explanation is present.

He stops in his tracks to face her direction. "When is the last time you recall with absolute certainty it was in your possession?"

"I still had it when we were at Sebastian's safehouse," she says in a shaky voice. "I—I think."

"You think?" he replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, Siobhan. How could you be so—"

She tenses, sucking in a breath and holding it. Ominis bites his tongue, cursing his temper. The last thing she needs is more reprimanding, especially from him. He lets out a frustrated groan, threading his fingers through his hair and tugging on the strands.

"You think this is my fault?" she hushes, in a broken tone he wishes he did not recognize. "You think I wanted this to happen?"

"No," he replies, elaborating no further in the fear he will only make the situation worse with his stupid, tactless words. When she does not respond, he sighs, shaking his head. "If you had it in Nottingham, then you had it here. Is there anything else missing?"

"Other than Peter?" Siobhan's anguish is palpable as she shuffles through their belongings again. More guilt passes through him, knowing how much she cares for the little beast.

Ominis swears she empties all the contents of her magical satchel, the sound of glass vials, parchment and other items falling against the wooden vanity. She quietly curses and he knows by the hitch of her breath that she is holding back tears.

"What is it?"

"I—" she hesitates, her next words barely audible over her frantic heartbeat. "My wand."

"What?!" he steps closer to the mess of objects as if he might be able to find it more easily than she. It is difficult not to scold her in that moment and Ominis clutches the edge of the vanity as he leans against it. He tries and fails miserably to keep an even tone. "Why haven't you kept it on your person?"

"I didn't think I needed to be armed in my own cousin's home," she argues. "I thought we were supposed to be inconspicuous. Was I supposed to transfigure it into a knitting needle?"

Ominis finally does what he should have done all along and keeps his mouth shut. He has already done enough damage for one day. Or maybe eight.

Siobhan exhales, steadying her emotions. "We need to speak to Fergus—"

"Barclay?"

"Yes," she immediately responds, ignoring his outburst. "Aside from his staff, there have been countless guests roaming these halls the last few days. He can provide a list of names, if not question these people himself. Unless you have a better idea."